You Can't Brush Me Off
Why don't you just give in?
Just like a Siamese twin
I mean to stick to you
Until you do
I won't take it on the chin
You'll never leave me flat
I'm not a "last year's hat"
That you can cast aside
I've got my pride
And I won't stand for that
You can't brush me off
As you would a speck of powder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't shout me down
You can yell but I'll yell louder, you can try
But you can't brush me off
You can say you're out but I'll keep phoning
You can tell me goodbye
You can tell me but I
Won't go
No
You can't leave me cold
As you would a plate of chowder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[2]
What is this all about?
You've got me wrong, no doubt
I give you all my time
Believe me, I'm
Not looking for some way out
I want you for my wife
Sharing my care and strife
And that may not be fun
For when it's done
You're stuck with me for life
You can't brush me off
As you would a fresh mosquito, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't rub me out
Like a spot on my tuxedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can cut me dead but I won't mind it
You may injure my pride
Still I'll never decide
To go
No
You can't drop me fast
As you would a live torpedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[3]
You can't brush me off
Like a colored pullman porter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't lock me out
Like a frightened farmer's daughter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can drop a hint but I won't take it
You can tell me bad news
I intend to refuse
To go
No
You can't give me back
As you would a leaded quarter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Brush Away
I could use some time to curl away
My aggression is where you stake your claim
Why I question this curve on which you grade
My conception, a joke or latest craze?
I try to get away, and yet I stick around
So fall and crawl away, and brush away loose ground
My intention, may I arrive at eight?
Lie and dream some, surprise you guys Im late
All right, correction, forgetting something, wait
I try to get away, and yet I stick around (2x)
So fall and crawl away, and brush away loose ground
Brush away loose ground
Brush away
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Let me brush your tangled Hair
My sweet baby gets up after dark
A runs fast through the quiet green park
Returning looks tiered as she flops in the armchair
I say relax sweety let me brush your tangled hair
Darling looks fantastic as she sets off for work
Running phoning faxing and training the new clerk
Baby does a great job she’s an angel she really does care
When she gets home I say relax let me brush your tangled hair
After dinner and all the dishes are done
I dim the lights pop the cork now starts the fun
We roll scream and shout its the best ever I swear
Then she says to me let me brush your tangled hair
poem by David Darbyshire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A white paper - Brush,
Fine brush made it
A beautiful portrait!
haiku by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Will Life Begin
Seven A.M., the usual morning line-up
Start on the chores, and sweep 'til the
floor's are
clean
Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and
shine up
Sweep again
And by then
It's, like, seven fifteen
And so I'll read a book
Or maybe 2 or 3 Ill add a few new
paintings
To my gallery
I'll play guitar and knit and cook
And basically
Just wonder, when will my life begin?
Then, after lunch, it's puzzles, and
darts, and
baking...
Paper-mache, a bit of ballet, and
chess....
Pottery and ventriloquy, candle-
making...
Then I'll stretch
Maybe sketch
Take a climb
Sew a dress
And I'll re-read the books
If I have time to spare
I'll paint the wall some more
I'm sure there's room somewhere
And then I'll brush, and brush
And brush, and brush my hair
Stuck in the same place I've always been
And I'll keep wondrin'
And wonderin'
And wonderin'
And wonderin'
When will my life begin?
Tomorrow night...
The lights will appear...
Just like they do on my birthday each
year...What is it like...
Out there where they glow...
Now that I'm older...
Mother might just let me go......
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Don't Tar Me
Don't you dare tar me
With that same brush
I am nothing like her
Can't you see? ?
Don't you know me by now
I thought you knew me so well
Maybe i'm wrong
Am i that hard to read? ?
I would give you the world
Ten times over
I would steal you the stars
From the sky
I would die
For our endless devotion
Die for you
In the blink of an eye
So don't you dare tar me
With that same brush
She never gave you a second thought
Don't you see? ?
I'd give you it all
My body and soul
An i'd stumble and fall
You are everything
Everything to me! ! !
poem by Lucy Vernezze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you take 67 brush fires times 10 years, that's almost 700 right there. Those brush fires are incredibly dangerous, all those homes going down proved that.
quote by Joseph Wambaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
While Hair Brushing
Juliette drags the brush
through her hair you have
to brush it at least one
hundred times her mother
had said years ago and say
a prayer each time you get
it through and maybe God
will bless you and as she sits
and brushes her hair she
remembers her mother standing
over her when she was a child
and the hair was as long then
as it is now and oh God she
says how I hated it the knots
and tangles and the number of
times I used to cry each time
she pauses in front of the mirror
the brush held mid air sometimes
when she brushes her hair and
stares in the mirror she sees him
there looking at her as he did back
then watching her every move
his dark eyes greedily drinking
her in and once he placed his
hands around her waist and kissed
her neck how she cringed his spittle
still there her uncle his breath his
hands touching always when she
was alone and once when undressing
he came in and stared and said he
thought she was becoming a beautiful
young girl now she brushes her hair
again the brush stiff and heavy gripped
in her hand and as she stares into the
mirror heavy with times and care she
thinks she sees him still staring still there.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Powder
I am soaked in sweat tonight
Knuckles white and you try to fight
You beg for more to get you by
I've had enough, you wonder why
Even now your body cries
And jealous adds to blind your eyes
You wonder how you stay this high
When the sails begin to die
Forever forever forever
CHORUS: Brush it up, brush it up
Take it down, take it down
Smash it up, smash it up
Falling down
Follow like a medicine
It's broken down my happy friend
I wonder if you let me in
If I'm gonna see him win
Forever get better get better
CHORUS
Powder, give me powder
If only when you're young
This power, in the powder
If only when you're young
CHORUS x 5
Powder, powder, powder, powder . . .
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Powder
I am soaked in sweat tonight
Knuckles white and you try to fight
You beg for more to get you by
I've had enough, you wonder why
Even now your body cries
And jealous adds to blind your eyes
You wonder how you stay this high
When the sails begin to die
Forever forever forever
CHORUS: Brush it up, brush it up
Take it down, take it down
Smash it up, smash it up
Falling down
Follow like a medicine
It's broken down my happy friend
I wonder if you let me in
If I'm gonna see him win
Forever get better get better
CHORUS
Powder, give me powder
If only when you're young
This power, in the powder
If only when you're young
CHORUS x 5
Powder, powder, powder, powder . . .
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Like Alice Does.
Alice sits brushing her hair,
stroke following stroke,
her husband sitting
on the edge of the bed
watching, studying her
hand and brush going
downward and out and
downward and out, and
as he watches he suddenly
remembers his mother
doing likewise and he
standing by the doorframe
of her bedroom, sees her
hand pull the brush through
her tight black hair, and
hears her sobbing voice
over the old white radio
playing some country song,
and senses an uneasiness
fill him like a wetting of pants,
and his mother gazing at him
in the mirror before her with
her red rimmed eyes and he
knowing as she lifts the brush
threateningly, that that way
pain comes and danger lies.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Chinese use two brush strokes to write the word 'crisis.' One brush stroke stands for danger the other for opportunity. In a crisis, be aware of the danger - but recognize the opportunity.
quote by Richard M. Nixon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Chronic disease! (A not so funny story)
An army Major visiting the sick army men, went to one soldier and asked, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic syphilis, Sir.'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get back to the front, Sir.'
'Good man, ' said the Major.
He went to the next bed, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic piles, Sir.'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get back to the front, Sir.'
'Good man, ' barked the Major.
He moved to the next bed where Santa was lying and asked, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic gum disease, Sir'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get the wire brush before the other two, Sir! '
poem by Edwin Drood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode To The Elder Brush
The cold breeze went traipsing
With the elder brush.
The leaves rustle
beneath the moonless sky.
August had come
August had little to last
Leaving my soul
Alone.
Alone with my past.
The cold breeze went traipsing
With the elder brush.
The bark shudders
beneath the gloom above.
My soul wanders
Devoid of love.
My soul wonders,
Love?
Does it even need love?
The cold breeze went traipsing
With the elder brush.
The roots shiver
beneath the silent night.
My soul yearns for its mate
Where is she?
It wonders,
Can it ever heal,
Can it ever fall again in love.
poem by Shah Rizan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still Life In Oils-De Jour
You painted a most exquisite picture
...Brush stroked her canvas delicately
With feathered brush-a touch
...Tinting with royal hues-
And crimson red coloured views...
'Tis a still life of a woman in degrees...
...A breath-taking piece of divinity...
A true masterpiece of elegance...
...Your virgin work of art...
Captured by your most artistic keen eye
...Creme De la Creme Ala Carte...
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sensual
Fingertips
That brush my lips
That graze across
My closed eyelids
And tingle-dance
down my spine
In tactile touch
So damned divine
Fingertips
That brush my lips
Caress also
My mind
Like feathers touch
Breath held…too much!
So fiercely soft…like fingertips
dipped gently in white wine
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The God Of Common-Sense
My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
"Its takes a hair-brush back," said he, "to teach kids common-sense."
And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place.
For Dad declared with unction: "Spare the brush and spoil the brat."
The dear old man! What e'er his faults he never did do that;
And though a score of years have gone since he departed hence,
I still revere his deity, The God of Common-sense.
How often I have played the ass (Man's universal fate),
Yet always I have saved myself before it was too late;
How often tangled with a dame - you know how these things are,
Yet always had the gumption not to carry on too far;
Remembering that fancy skirts, however high they go,
Are not to be stacked up against a bunch of hard-earned dough;
And sentiment has little weight compared with pounds and pence,
According to the gospel of the God of Common-sense.
Oh blessing on that old hair-brush my Daddy used to whack
With such benign precision on the basement of my back.
Oh blessings on his wisdom, saying: "Son, don't play the fool,
Let prudence be your counselor and reason be your rule.
Don't get romantic notions, always act with judgment calm,
Poetical emotions ain't in practice worth a damn/
let solid comfort be your goal, self-interest your guide. . . ."
Then just as if to emphasize, whack! whack! the brush he plied.
And so I often wonder if my luck is Providence,
or just my humble tribute to the God of Common-sense.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Painting Words
IMAGES SPRING FROM NOWHERE,
BUT BEAR A KNOWN DESIGN.
NO BRUSH OR PAINT IS MY WARE
THOUGH PAINTINGS DO SEEM MINE.
MY CANVAS BREATHES ALIVE
AS WORD AND IMAGE MERGE.
FROM NOTHINGNESS I STRIVE
TO CAPTURE EACH NEW SURGE.
PEN SWATHES, LIKE BRUSH STROKES,
FASHION WORDS, ONE-BY-ONE,
UNTIL MIND’S EYE EVOKES
IMAGES CLEAR AS THE SUN.
ALL WHO VIEW THESE WORKS
WILL FIND IT’S NOT ABSURD
TO FEEL THE POWER THAT LURKS
BEHIND EACH PAINTED WORD.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mama Says
Eat a lot sleep a lot brush em like crazy
Run a lot do a lot never be lazy
(good boy)
Eat a lot sleep a lot brush em like crazy
Run a lot do a lot never be lazy
Eat a lot sleep a lot brush em like crazy
Run a lot do a lot never be lazy
Eat a lot sleep a lot brush em like crazy
Run a lot do a lot never be lazy
Never be lazy be lazy
Eat a lot sleep a lot brush em like crazy
Run a lot do a lot never be lazy boy
Poof!
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An Art Is Dead
Colors and ideas just rush in
As has been observed and seen
It is one of the tricky jobs
Inspiration is nature from where he has to rob
If not then any object
People can't reject
As his brush and color
May soon find great honor
Painter can brush the lines
They may appear as happy lines
Someone may read it as an art
Others may find it sales object in mart
His heart bleeds in brush
It finds great rush
Through his eyes and on canvass
The shape appears at last
Who may sing in praise?
Who may love it and chase?
No one except bidders
Or genuine art readers
That is his worth
Real asset and wealth
He has contentment
With lots of praise and comments
It may adore anybody's wall
Receive attention and call
Painter may be lost
As it has been sold at cost
It is an art piece
With lovely message of peace
That is worth to understand and read
Before anyone says 'an art is dead'
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smile Once More
Brush away the tears within your eyes,
Sweep out all despair and smile once more.
Let the years leave you with feelings wise,
Keeping all you've gleaned, safely in store.
Use this knowledge profoundly when you can,
Waste it not, your days have fruitful been.
Value all you've learnt since your life began,
And find happiness in everything you've seen.
Brush away the tears within your eyes,
Let sunshine freely enter and take their place.
And as the weeping seeps away and dries,
A happier time of life, you will embrace.
For there is always hopefulness in the soul,
Such brightness hidden there behind the cloud.
Making our melancholy spirits whole,
When smiling once more, we feel truly endowed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!